


The Right Ingredients to Call This Ours

by DjDangerLove



Series: Tarlos March Madness [10]
Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Baking, Domestic Fluff, M/M, amused Carlos Reyes, disaster TK Strand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29966004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DjDangerLove/pseuds/DjDangerLove
Summary: TK rubs a thumb at the chocolate on Carlos’ cheek bringing his attention back to him. “What are you thinking about?”The corner of Carlos’ mouth curves up at the feeling settling deep in his belly, the warmth spreading across his chest and says, “I’m thinking about how much you’ve taken over my house.”Or: Carlos asks TK to move in with him
Relationships: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand
Series: Tarlos March Madness [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2189232
Comments: 16
Kudos: 359





	The Right Ingredients to Call This Ours

**Author's Note:**

> For fangirlfreak08 on tumblr who requested "Carlos asking TK to move in with him while cooking together" 🖤
> 
> Tarlos March Madness #10 of 31

They’re elbow deep in flour and made-from scratch sugar cookie dough when the oven dings. TK goes to wipe his hands on the damp dish towel laying on the kitchen island, but Carlos swipes it just before he can close his fingers around it and grins victoriously.

“You keep mixing. I’ll get the brownies.”

TK, having already voiced his displeasure several times about making cookies from scratch and not using a prepackaged recipe, glares at him but the heat of it is lost behind the flour smeared across his nose. Carlos playfully pops him in the ass with the dish towel on his way to the oven and can’t find it in himself to care that his boyfriend makes a floured handprint on the back of his shirt in retaliation. 

He pushes the stop button on the oven and winces at the heat billowing out as he drops the door, revealing their pan of vegan brownies TK insisted they make. His brow furrows at the soupy sight of them then shoots near his hairline when he picks the pan up from the rack with an oven mitt and they _swim_. 

Setting the pan down on the counter, he has to bite back a laugh as it sends actual ripples through the batter. 

“Hey, Tiger,” Carlos calls softly, unable to look away from the chocolate liquid in the pan. “Are you supposed to drink these through a straw?”

“What?” TK asks, appearing by Carlos’ side with a worried frown and holding his cookie batter covered hands out in front of him. “What the actual hell?”

Carlos snorts. “Honestly, that’s the same thought I had when you suggested vegan brownies.”

TK rolls his eyes, ignoring the jab and instead running through the recipe again in his head. “I’m sure I added everything I was supposed to. Check my phone. Dad sent the ingredients in a text.” 

Carlos does, opening the message and checking it as TK lists off the stuff he placed in the batter. Carlos murmurs a, “yeah” for every ingredient until TK says, “Eight tablespoons of water.”

“Wait. Tablespoons? This says teaspoons! Tell me you did not use tablespoons,” Carlos manages around a laugh bubbling in his throat. 

“Fuck! I thought it said tablespoons!”

“Why?!” Carlos demands a bit incredulously. “Why on earth would you think one pan of brownies needs eight tablespoons of water?”

“I don’t know!” TK meets his volume, hands gesturing wildly at the pan and tossing flour from his hands across the counter. “They’re vegan. I just figured….water, you know?” He finishes lamely with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Carlos closes his eyes, feigning exasperation when really he’s overcome by a wave of fondness for the man beside him.

“Can we fix them?” TK asks, going so far as to grab a fork and run it through the batter. He holds it above the pan and they both watch it pour between the tines.  
“Yeah, by pouring them down the sink and making normal brownies,” Carlos says before kissing the corner of TK’s frown. “Lucky for you, I have a box of pre-made brownie mix in the pantry.”

“Yay,” TK deadpans. “More baking.”

“This was your idea!” Carlos defends while dumping the ruined brownies and washing the pan. “You asked me for help.”

“Uh, no I didn’t?” TK counters, going back over to the cookie mix on the kitchen island and poking an annoyed finger at it. “I said the station was having a potluck tomorrow and I got assigned dessert. I told you I was going to make Dad’s vegan brownies and some pre-made cookies and I guess that’s like cardinal sin number one in the culinary world or something because you started pulling stuff out of the pantry and insisting _we_ had to make the cookies from scratch.” 

Carlos drops the pan in the sink with a clang, eyes widening in horror. “Oh God! I did do that, didn’t I?”

“It was scary,” TK says, grin splitting his face as he rounds the kitchen island to hop up on the only clean part of the counter. He nudges Carlos’ hip with his knee. “It was like your mother all of sudden possessed you… or Betty Crocker.”

“Betty Crocker isn’t a real person,” Carlos says with an eye roll, but huffs when TK cackles at his response. “Well, she isn’t. If that ever comes up in one of Grace’s Trivia board games she loves so much you’re not getting points for it.”

TK gasps dramatically, hand over his chest and all. “What will I ever do?”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Carlos brackets TK on the counter by putting his hands on either side of the man’s dangling legs and grins wickedly. “It’s not like you’ve ever came close to winning one of those.”

TK’s jaw drops at the insult and he swipes a floured covered hand across Carlos’ cheek to dirty it. “Okay, but who kicked your ass at Pictionary? Monopoly? _Candyland_ ?” 

“You cheated at Monopoly. Candyland is nothing but chance. And Pictionary….well, yeah…you got me there,” Carlos laughs, delighting in the way TK beams with pride at his mediocre artistic skills and leans forward to kiss him. It’s deep and sweet, too sweet, meaning his boyfriend has been swiping cookie dough to eat when Carlos wasn’t looking this entire time. 

Breaking away from the kiss, he asks, “How many cookies have you ate in raw dough? We’ve got to have enough to make at least thirty.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” TK says before hoping off the counter, but then adds, “It’ll be fine.”

Carlos peeks over TK’s shoulder as his boyfriend goes back kneading the dough for the cookies to gage just how accurate the man’s assurance is. They might get thirty out of it if they make them smaller than normal. 

“I’ll start on the second batch of brownies. Don’t eat anymore dough,” Carlos instructs as he heads for the pantry. He sifts through the shelves looking for the box he thought he had only to come up empty a few minutes later. “Uh, Babe?”

“Hmm?”

“Turns out, I must have already used the brownie mix. I can run to the store real qui-“

“I’ll go!” TK cuts in, already making a dash for the sink to wash his hands. Carlos knows what he’s doing and decides to take pity on him and let him have a break. 

“Fine. I’ll finish the cookies, but you are making the brownies when you get back. It’s _your_ station’s potluck, not mine.”

“They still claim you,” TK shrugs while picking his keys up off the counter where always drops them instead of the dish by the stairs where Carlos likes to keep his. “I’ll be right back.”

If Carlos swipes some raw cookie dough for himself while TK’s gone, no one has to know.

——————

Carlos looks up from setting the fresh baked cookies into a container as TK shuffles through the front door with more bags than he should be carrying. 

“And how many boxes of brownie mix did you buy?” He asks even though he can tell by the bulk of the bag it’s a lot more than box mix.

“None, actually.” And TK looks so proud of himself for it that Carlos has a hard time not smiling back, easily amused by the man in front of him. “I went by the bakery section and bought their brownies instead!”

Carlos curses in Spanish and then laughs at TK’s offended frown, “Never let my mother find out you took a store bought dessert to a potluck. She will never forgive you.”

“I think if she knew my lack of skillset in the kitchen she would understand I was doing every one a favor.”

“Of course,” Carlos says, moving over to help TK remove his purchases from the grocery bags. “You’re a saint.”

“Don’t you forget it,” TK hip checks him and holds up one of the three boxes of brownies he bought. He hops back onto the counter, his favorite place to sit in the kitchen Carlos has come to realize, and opens the box to take out one for himself. 

“I even bought a box just for us,” he says around a large bite of chocolate gooeyness while offering the container to Carlos. Carlos shakes his head, feeling too full of sugar from the raw cookie dough to think about eating more sweets. TK shrugs, “More for me, then.”

“You’re going to make yourself sick,” Carlos grimaces at the thought, leaning against the counter by TK’s knee and watching him inspect his brownie for which corner of it he wants to eat next. 

“Speak for yourself. Some of us are still young enough to handle a sugar high,” TK teases even though they are only a year apart in age. Carlos reaches out and slaps at TK’s hand anyway, purposefully making the man smash his brownie into his nose. Carlos cackles at the dumbfound expression on his boyfriend’s face and therefore misses the moment TK decides to exact revenge by smearing chocolate down the side of his face. 

It’s TK’s turn to laugh, but Carlos doesn’t stop either and soon the remainder of the brownie is forgotten all together, placed back in the box so that Carlos can stand between TK’s legs dangling off the counter while his boyfriend cups his face with chocolate covered fingertips.  
Carlos dips forward kissing the spot of chocolate off the bridge of TK’s nose making him giggle. 

Leaning back, Carlos takes in the state of the kitchen, how messy and unorganized it is compared to how he usually cleans as he cooks. The bags sitting on the counter that he didn’t have to go to the store for, but ended up with his favorite brand of protein bars anyway and a pack of skittles because TK ate the one from his desk drawer at the precinct the last time he stopped by to have lunch with him. 

TK rubs a thumb at the chocolate on Carlos’ cheek bringing his attention back to him. “What are you thinking about?”

The corner of Carlos’ mouth curves up at the feeling settling deep in his belly, the warmth spreading across his chest and says, “I’m thinking about how much you’ve taken over my house.”

“Oh,” TK’s face falls quickly as he glances at the mess. “I’m sor-“

“And,” Carlos cuts him off gently, arms circling around TK’s waist. “How I think it could use a little bit more of you…as in you being here all the time.”

“Well, as great as that would be, I have work and then there’s-“

“I mean instead of it being my house it should be ours,” Carlos explains, kissing the stunned expression painting his boyfriend’s face. “Whenever you’re ready for it to be ours, that is.”

A silence settles over the kitchen, but TK remains relaxed in his arms as he rests his head on Carlos’ shoulder. His voice carries just over the sound of the air conditioning unit kicking on when he asks, “Does it have to be now?”

There’s a spark of disappointment, but the warmth surrounding him never fades. “No, of course not. You know I’ll wait-“

“Because,” this time TK does the interrupting, leaning back just far enough to smile at Carlos a bit sheepishly. “I am starting to feel a bit nauseous from all the sugar I ate so if we could wait to move me in until the morning, I would really appreciate it.”

It takes a second for Carlos to comprehend the words, the weight of the moment overwhelming him in all the right ways, but once it settles he surges forward and kisses TK long and sweet, until the chocolate taste vanishes.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos are appreciated. Comments are food.  
> Find me on tumblr @ DjDangerLove


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